


Serendipity

by LegolasLovely



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE FIRSTS, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: Fili witnesses a bike accident and of course has a fling with the victim after helping her because DUH.
Relationships: Fíli (Tolkien)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the BEAST! I sat down WEEKS AGO thinking I was just going to write some nice Fili smut but FILI said NO! He said plot and characters and a new POV and basically sat over my shoulder like an assistant director gone rogue. But at least we’re both satisfied now! I hope you guys enjoy it.

He leaned back on his knees, pulled himself out of her, and stroked his slick cock with a tight fist. His own hand was nothing compared to her warmth and wetness, but the view of her below him mixed with her soft encouragements made him climax after just a few sloppy slides of his fingers. He marked her with his come, spilling his essence onto her belly as he’d yearned to do from the moment she walked into his hotel room.

And it all began with a bicycle accident. Who would have thought?

*

He knew it was going to be a big wedding. The church would be packed, as would the ballroom of the ancestral hotel down the street and Fili doubted he would know a single person in the entire building other than the groom. A groom who didn’t even allow him a plus one to serve as a partner in crime. Or a distraction. Or a reward. He’d have no one. 

Eventually, however, he’d have a full rocks glass to keep him company. He was especially looking forward to it as he walked through the neat courtyard behind the cathedral. His shined shoes clapped against the rough, white cobblestones and he relished the consistent breeze that shot down the alleyway and under the neat ponytail he had tied at the nape of his neck. If he sat near the back of the church, maybe he’d catch more of that same sweet breeze instead of the mismatched colognes and perfumes that would strangle his nostrils and dizzy him in his pew.

But why dread the future?

Right now he was alone. He strolled around the corner of the building, admiring the spire that sprouted high into the sky. A light clicking blew past him- too close for comfort- and he recognized the buzz of bicycle wheels as they rode over the bumpy cobblestones. 

A high squeak. A hard thunk and a slap. The bell on the bike squealed.

By the time Fili turned towards the sounds, the bicyclist’s victim was slowly sitting up from where she’d fallen. He tripped on a crooked stone as he ran to her. 

“Are you all right?” he asked when he reached her, taking her by the waist and helping her to her feet. “Did he hit you?” He flipped her palms up and winced. The heels of her hands were bloodied and her fall dug small stones into the skin.

She pulled away. “I’m all right.”

Only when he heard a sniff, did he look to her face. Her round eyes were half full of tears, though none had fallen yet. Fili yanked his decorative handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. 

“I’m fine. I’m just startled,” she said. She took his kerchief in her fingertips so the satin corners hung away from her cut up hands. “I guess he didn’t see the sign,” she said, pointing to the clear image of a bike with a red slash through it in the middle of the cathedral’s yard. She gave a wet chuckle.

“Not with how fast he was riding. Reckless… “ He bent until he met her downcast gaze. “Are you hurt? Besides your hands? I didn’t see what happened, I only heard the bell.”

She laughed again. Good humored. “He only rang the bell _after_ the fact. When he rode past me- too close- I think the wind sent my skirt into his handlebars or the wheel spokes or something. It pulled me right down. I can’t believe he didn’t fall too.”

A slew of seasoned slurs came to Fili’s mind, but he would never say any of them out loud to a stranger in such a state. “Lucky him,” was all Fili said.

The woman flashed a small smile of appreciation, but it vanished when she lifted the light fabric of the skirt. Not only were the top few layers ripped from waist to hem, but the front was caked with dirt. She whispered a curse and brought Fili’s handkerchief back to her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“It could be worse, right? It’s just a dress.”

Fili hummed. “My car is over there. Can I take you to, to a doctor or anything?” He couldn’t just leave her like this. Even her legs were scraped up, glowing and dripping red already. Ankles, shins, knees… “Let me help.”

“I’ll find a first aid kit inside. It’s really not as bad as it looks, I just have to clean myself up a bit. But thank you.”

As she spoke, she gestured to the church. 

“You’re here for the wedding?” Fili asked.

“Yes,” she said. He stood a little straighter as she glanced at his clothes. “I should have guessed you were too.”

She was here for the wedding! He’d know someone. They could sit together and he wouldn’t be alone in some corner counting the hours until he could go back to his hotel room. He could enjoy spending time with her, she was clearly good natured, genuine, pretty. And she wasn’t wearing any awful perfume.

“I should go. It’s fine, they won’t see me anyway,” she said to herself after looking at her dress once more. “Thank you for your help, you’ve been very kind. I hope you enjoy the ceremony.” She placed the damp, yet spotless handkerchief in his hand.

“Wait,” he called as she walked through the backdoor of the church. 

She waved and thanked him again over her shoulder.

He stared at the door she’d gone through as if he’d be able to see through the inches of ornately decorated wood. When the loud bells above tolled on the hour, he quickly replaced his kerchief in his suit pocket so the bright corner was visible.

He’d find her in the church. Easy plan. There couldn’t be that many people attending the ceremony. A wedding ceremony was to a funeral what a reception was to a wake, right? Not the best comparison to make on this joyous occasion, but in his experience, it was the truth. 

He tugged on his jacket and sauntered up to the backdoor of the cathedral, but when he managed to yank it open, an altar boy stood in his way.

“This is the back door, sir. I’m sorry, you’ll have to go around front.”

So he did. Over the cobblestones and around the building he went with a light blue dress in mind. He recalled her hair, her height, her face. He’d find her no problem. The front entrance would be right-

_Shit_.

*

The front entrance was indeed straight ahead… with a horde of people attempting to funnel through it.

By the time the ceremony began, Fili had been shooed and squished against the wall in the very last pew on the groom’s side of the church. He hadn’t realized how long he’d spent in the courtyard and when he reached the front entrance, the church had already been packed solid except for the last few rows. 

He initially took his spot on the aisle, eyeing every head and shoe in the room, searching for something he would recognize. Strictly strategy. 

It didn’t work.

A man had come to his pew, waving to his wife and his friends and her friends and their friends because _Look, honey, I found a spot._ There was no way Fili could have the aisle seat because this one had to be able to see and this one had to be able to go to the bathroom and this one had to sit next to this one and this one was this one’s plus one. A loud _You understand, sweetie,_ and Fili was butt bumped against the old stone wall of the church with half of the pew armrest up his ass and he still hadn’t found the woman he’d met outside.

Just as Fili was about to check his watch, all around turned their heads. Sitting where he was, he had a front row seat to the bridal party’s emergence from the entrance of the cathedral. As the first couple floated down the aisle, soothing music did the same from the balcony above his head. It was a piano he heard, not an organ which gave him pause. Why haul in a piano when you could have something as momentous and symbolic as an organ that was, no doubt, as old as the cathedral itself?

He searched the balcony and he got his answer.

He also found the woman he’d been looking for.

She stood between the balcony edge and the pianist at the instrument. To all below, only her upper half was visible. Not only did her dress hang off her shoulders flawlessly, but her body held no tension and her face no remorse or remembrance of her earlier fear. No one but her accompanist could have guessed she had had such an accident a few minutes before the ceremony. 

Beautiful, confident, like an angel above, Fili thought. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

Every person in the church stood, save for the pianist. His melody looped around once more and Fili’s guess to his forgotten question was proved correct when the woman began to sing. Her voice filled every archway, every window, every pew, every nook and cranny in the cathedral as the vibrato rocked him in the comfort of its cradle. 

While an organ would have overpowered her singing, stomping on the precise intonation and flowing beauty, the piano only worked to accentuate it. As a bird soars through the air, it may be escorted by the wind, but the creature doesn’t need it to fly. It was the same with this woman’s voice as she sang the romantic aria with the utmost grace. 

The bride passed Fili by and made her way to the altar. The congregation rotated like cogs in a Swiss grandfather clock, but Fili’s eyes remained on the vocalist in the balcony. Even as she sang, she seemed to smile. It was magic- what she did to the room, the emotions she evoked in the onlookers, the sound she produced with what seemed to be no effort at all. Fili couldn’t believe that this voice, thick and rich like cumulus clouds that shaped the summer sky, was the same that created those sweet chuckles and gracious lines he’d heard earlier. It seemed impossible. But there she was. 

He was struck by a woman in her passion and was the last of the congregation left standing before the minister began the ceremony in earnest. He fell onto the armrest of the pew, only peeking at the bride and groom before returning his attention to the balcony. 

She was looking at him!

Not only looking, she was smiling. It started as one of recognition, but soon turned to one of surprise and even disbelief. Then bashfulness. He was _staring_ at her. Only when she glanced to the front of the church and sent him a high-browed look that said, _You should be paying attention,_ did Fili feel ashamed of his behavior.

He didn’t hear a single word from the altar. Yes, he was in the back and yes, those in his pew were blubbering and sniffing and whispering about _her_ dress and _his_ divorce and _their_ disowned nephew, but truthfully, he hadn’t noticed much of that either. He was too busy playing a game with himself. If he turned around now, would anyone notice he wasn’t paying attention to his friend, the groom? If he peeked over his shoulder then, would the object of his attention think him obsessed and rude? Could he sneak up to the balcony after the ceremony and risk being snatched by the young lady at the end of his pew who had been ogling him distastefully and obviously since he sat down?

The last option would have to do. 

*

After patiently waiting for the end of the wedding and for the friends and friends of friends to file out of his lane of traffic, he politely ran from anyone who could stop him and sprinted up the steps of the balcony two at a time.

He reached the top step and the wide, circular balcony opened before him. He was right, there was an organ that looked older than even the ancient, farting woman he was forced to sit next to downstairs. There was the piano, extra stacked chairs, choir books, and- violinists? Had he even heard them play? Would he have noticed anything after the woman had started singing? Probably not.

“Excuse me,” he said, catching up with one of the musicians. “I’m looking for the singer, uh-”

“(Y/N)? She left. Said she’d been in an accident and couldn’t see the wedding planner today-”

“When did she leave? Out the back door?”

He shrugged. “Few minutes ago. Don’t know where she went.”

Fili ran back down the stairs, his shoes surfing over the corners of the steps until he landed on flat ground right in front yet another altar boy.

“Sorry,” Fili said, out of breath. “The singer, have you seen her?”

“Should I be telling you?”

He didn’t have time to wring any necks today. Instead, he flung the backdoor open and let his bang against the wall with an echo that would only be blamed on the kid he left behind.

The courtyard was empty. He ran around its corner and passed the biker’s route over the cobblestones where a red splotch of blood still stained the ground. There was no one. As if taunting him for his failure, the wind blew hard, lifting the tails of his jacket and blowing loose waves of his hair across his face. 

There was nothing left for him to do but sit and sulk. Even then, he’d have to at least make an appearance at the reception, which meant staying until dinner was served when the newlyweds could finally circle the ballroom and greet their guests. He’d have to spend hours making small talk with people like those he shared his pew with today. There were many things he would rather do. Grating his tongue against the cobblestones below was just one option that came to mind.

He was trying to remember the last time he’d physically chased a woman (answer: never) when a large booklet, like the outside cover of a hardback, tumbled on the wind and landed at his feet. He picked it up. 

“Puccini,” he read on the outside. He didn’t know much about the art of music, but he recognized the squiggly lines and flags and italicized lyrics. This was sheet music. He flipped it over and found a sticker with penned writing on it. 

_(Y/N) (Y/L/N)_

Fili didn’t believe in fate. And yet, he swore under his breath as he watched _her_ enter this side of the courtyard.

“This yours? Puccini?”

She laughed. “(Y/N)!” she called.

He met her halfway and was almost blinded by her light. The exhilaration of her performance hadn’t yet left her and she gave him a beaming smile of thanks as she took the music from him.

“I would have been so disappointed if I lost this. It was my first copy.” She tucked it into her folder and under her arm. Then she held it up. “Puccini, (Y/N),” she said, pointing to herself, “and you are?”

“Fili.” He held out a hand and she took it. Instead of giving her hand a shake, he turned it and kissed the back. Only then did he notice the cloth bandages wrapped around the heels of her hands and wrists. Her radiant glow turned pink, mortified. 

“I look much too terrible for such a nice greeting,” she said. “I’ve felt like a complete mess since this afternoon.”

His thumb swiped over the back of her hand before he released it. “I can promise you, you are anything but a mess. And in there, you were,” he shook his head, every word that could have described even half of her magnificence gone from his mind. “Incredible. Just incredible.” 

“Thank you.” 

She spoke and again, he marveled at how such a performer’s presence and huge voice could shrink down to this personable woman. He could have- wanted to- complement her for hours, but she was clearly made uncomfortable by all of his praise, fingers flying up into her hair and eyes not quite meeting his.

“Is that what you sang today? I thought I recognized it,” he said. 

She lifted her music folder. “Yes. The Puccini. It’s a very popular aria. Most have heard it before.”

“Is it always sung at weddings? It seems like it was made for a place like this,” he said, thinking again of how her voice filled the cathedral.

“It often is.” She leaned to him. “Though between us, it’s not best used for that kind of ceremony. It’s actually not very romantic.”

“No?”

She shook her head and smiled as if she was sharing a coveted secret. “It comes from a comedic opera. This young girl is basically blackmailing her father into buying her an expensive wedding ring. She threatens to jump in the river if he doesn’t let her marry the boy she loves.”

Fili couldn’t help but guffaw. Of course his friend’s new wife hadn’t read anything about the music she chose for her wedding march. “You’re kidding.”

“I only tell you this because I wouldn’t want you to fall into the same trap someday. You seemed quite enraptured during the ceremony. By the melody of course.”

He’d been caught. “Not just the melody.”

“You’re right, the whole aria is beautiful,” she said, eyes twinkling. “But it is deceptive.”

“I could tell you loved singing it.”

She smiled, almost reminiscent. “It’s one of my favorites to perform. Having so many misconstrued listeners works to my advantage.”

“You’re sneaky,” he said. _Sneaky, brilliant, comical, beautiful…_

She only laughed.

Behind them, the guests from the church were beginning to gather at the entrance to the courtyard. (Y/N) shuffled to the other side of Fili so she could look over his shoulder. 

“I should go. I snuck out early so the planner wouldn’t see me like this. I would hate for her to catch up with me now. But I’m glad you found me, Fili. I wanted to thank you again for your kindness today.”

“I’m glad I could be here.” He caught her hand before she turned away and disappeared like she had that afternoon. “Let me take you to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’d love to see you again.”

She stepped right under his nose. She could have been hiding from the wedding planner, but Fili took her closeness as a compliment and didn’t take a second of it for granted.

“I’d like that.” She plucked a business card from her purse and gave it to him. “My number’s right there. Call me and we can talk more?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

*

The next day was a scramble for Fili. He’d only planned on staying in town for the night of the wedding, so when (Y/N) said yes to dinner with him, he had to pull some strings in order to stay in his hotel for another night. The exact strings he pulled only opened his wallet further so he could upgrade his room to the last one available. Unlike the closet he spent his first night in, this room had a wall of windows that overlooked the busy city, an almost full kitchen, and what he was pretty certain was a king sized bed. 

For more than an hour, that bed and it’s cushy duvet held every item of clothing he’d brought with him for his ‘day trip.’ 

Enter scramble number two.

Fili was not a man to fret over what to wear. He wore what was clean and what allowed him comfort in the day’s weather. Never in his life had he tested and tried on more than one outfit and he didn’t nitpick which shoes went with which belt. 

Until today.

He mixed and matched every combination of his three shirts, his single pair of jeans and the different elements of his suit until he found something that didn’t make him look like a slob who’d lost half his luggage in an engine fire.

Scramble number three didn’t happen until he’d tied up his hair, dabbed his light cologne on his neck, and sat on the edge of the bed to watch some of the news. He didn’t hear a single word the telecaster said. He was too busy thinking, even wondering if he was crazy.

He barely knew this woman. (Y/N). He didn’t know where she lived. She could have traveled for the wedding as well. She could live halfway around the world. Or she could live right in this city which was just as bad because from here, Fili’s home was across the country. He wanted to get to know her and even if he didn’t say another word for the rest of the night, he wouldn’t learn all he wanted to in one date. What was the point?

More importantly, what did this mean to her? Did she assume he didn’t want to get to know her? Only wanted her for one night? That pulled the blood south. Of course he didn’t have a one track mind, but a part of him would be disappointed if she didn’t spend the night in this room. He thought about it.

And then he got up and headed out the door. He worried and stressed and wondered what it was all for until he saw her at the restaurant entrance from his seat at their table. She grinned at him and waved until the host allowed her to weave through the tables in the dining room. She seemed happy to see him. She didn’t look nervous, so why was Fili? 

He stood before she was halfway across the room and pulled out her chair for her.

“Hi,” she said, setting a hand on his sleeve and fitting herself into the crook of his arm before she sat down.

As if her touch freed him from a boiling pot, Fili instantly relaxed. They talked about the wedding and her upcoming performances while sipping on their drinks. They forgot to look at the menu and kept the server waiting for much longer than may have been considered proper. It turned out they didn’t live very far from one another and she very scarcely traveled for work. 

“What made you sing at the wedding? Did you know someone in the bridal party?” Fili asked.

“I’ve worked with the pianist before and he recommended me to the wedding planner when the first woman they hired had to cancel. It’s a far way to travel to sing one song, but I had a favor to repay.”

Fili leaned in to her. “There must be a story there.”

She smiled and copied his forward motion. “There is,” she said in a dramatic whisper. “Legolas really saved me once a few years ago. I was performing in a recital for a few agents in the city. The woman who sang before me nudged the piano as she left the stage and the lid fell down onto the pianist’s hand. It was just awful at the time, but he still plays professionally. Still, I would have had to drop out of the recital had Legolas not stepped in and played for me. So when he asked me to travel here and sing, I couldn’t say no.”

“I see.” Before Fili could stop himself, he was leaning back into his chair, disappointed.

“And Legolas’s husband promised to leave his famous brownies in my mailbox when I return home.” She reached across the table and fit her fingers in Fili’s hand. 

“Legolas’ husband?”

She hummed, a low rumble that Fili could barely hear over the clinking of silverware throughout the dining room. It was a stark contrast to the light voice she usually shared with him.

Before he could enjoy her touch- soft and smooth despite her lingering injury- it became a memory. Their meals had arrived and her hand had floated back into her own lap. Her focus, however, had not left Fili. 

*

Even as he set (Y/N)’s coat over her shoulders and followed her out into the street, Fili couldn’t imagine this night ending anytime soon. He didn’t want to leave her. And he dared to think she might have felt the same when she slid her arm through his and tugged, asking him if he’d like to walk down the main street of the quieter corner of the city. 

“There’s a bridge with a beautiful view of the river and a little pedestrian walkway with lights and a garden…”

“Lead the way.”

With her hand wrapped around his arm and their chit chat flowing without break, Fili couldn’t help but forget this was a first date. Instead of constantly wondering what to say or ask, he was free to enjoy his company for the first time since he’d arrived in town for the wedding. 

Though it was free and comfortable between them, there were still obvious, inescapable moments of tension when he leaned into her side to laugh or whisper something in her ear in the night. Bodies were close and breath was shared as if the moment before intimacy could be stretched and he could ignore the looming division they’d have to endure. He’d enjoy his time until then.

His elongated moment was cut short, not by either party, but by a fierce wind that sent a shiver through (Y/N). The immediate offer of a hot drink in a toasty hotel room was given and accepted and Fili held her a little closer as he led her back through the walkway and across the street.

When the hotel’s first pair of automatic doors opened, Fili could just hear her breathy laugh over the rush of hot air from inside. She pinned her coat against her hips before the blast could lift her skirt Monroe-style and consequently, her hair freely whipped and tangled around her face. 

“I- oh my gosh-”

Fili led her through to the front desk and ran a finger over her forehead, clearing her hair from her eyes. 

“God forbid I ever look _presentable_ in front of you,” she mumbled through a bitter smile. But when she set herself to rights and could see Fili in front of her, she couldn’t help but laugh. He too was sent all askew- hair launched from its low tie and jacket blown open as if a tornado had its eye on them alone. “Here,” she said, tucking his soft, loose waves behind his ear.

He snorted. “I’ve seen you hit by a bike and attacked by a heating system all in the last thirty-six hours.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Through it all, you have been much, much more than presentable.”

She thanked him as they crossed the lobby together. “I guess I’m just unlucky.” 

The elevator doors closed and they rose to the tenth floor. When she leaned into the arm Fili set around her waist, he tilted his head down and spoke into her ear. “On the contrary, I think serendipity is working for you.”

“Oh?”

Fili hummed. “If that pianist wasn’t hurt at your recital, Legolas wouldn’t have filled in for you and you wouldn’t have owed him a favor. If the first singer didn’t back out of the wedding, you wouldn’t have traveled all this way to take her place. And if you or I weren’t standing in our exact places in the cathedral courtyard, odds are we would never have met and you wouldn’t get the chance to enjoy the small cup of bitter, lukewarm coffee I’m about to make for you.”

She turned into him, cheek against his jacket. “I’d take my coffee any way with such good company.” 

From the moment she stepped through his door, things changed for Fili. All she had to do was walk through the room, casting a curving shadow over the walls and filling the space between them with her scent, and unspeakable urges were rushing through him. But why rush what he wanted so much to relish?  
She’d gone straight across the room to the windows to admire the view. Her coat hung over her arm, leaving the night lights to shine through the glass and highlight her shoulders, her arms, and her calves. As he walked to her, he noticed the shadow of her legs through her skirt, up, up, up until her thighs met and the light was blocked.

He took her jacket from her. 

“You have a beautiful view.”

“Yes, I do,” he said close to her ear. He took a moment to enjoy the small smile he created in her, before retreating to the closet to hang up both their things. When he turned back, she was watching him.

Even as he poured their drinks from the cheap instant coffee maker and answered her questions about how he knew the wedding party, he could feel her eyes on him. It made him burn and left him so alert to her every move, he didn’t need a single sip from his mug. She was more than enough to keep his mind whirring.

He sat across the little round table from her and watched the lights from outside shine and blink in her eyes as he unbuttoned and rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves. Here she was, chatting about what she knew of his work and how interesting it must be, asking him how he got into it and where he wants to take his career, and here he was, overheating in his hotel room because he had her here. He was coursing with desire. He wanted to know what she would sound like. Would her voice be soft and warm as it was when she spoke to him, or would it echo like an opera performed in his bed? 

He could remember how she felt in his arms after she’d been hit by the bike. Even then, she was so careful around him, not letting him take her full weight, barely even touching him no matter how much she needed his help to stand in her injury and shock. Would she pull him close to her under the bedsheets? Would she touch him wherever she desired? Wherever she was curious about? Would she let him do the same?

He needed to know. But he couldn’t get himself to make a move. She was sitting and chatting so pleasantly, it almost made him think she only came here for the coffee. Nothing else. Which wouldn’t have been a bad thing if he didn’t let himself fall into this animalistic state of lust.

Eventually, the conversation stopped. She wasn’t talking anymore, only watching him. In fact, she hardly moved before she crossed one leg over her other, letting her skirt slip up her thigh and reveal her knee. It was still red and scratched up. Fili’s mouth clicked in pity and when she followed his eyes, she quickly brought both her feet to the floor and smoothed her skirt down over her knees.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. It just looks awful. I forgot about it, really.”  
He kept his eyes on hers, watching with the same molten intensity he’d seen from her, as he knelt at her feet. His rough fingertips caught on the fabric of her dress and he pulled the hem up her thigh until her knee came back into his view. This one didn’t look as painful as the other one did so he slid his fingers around her healthy, soft skin, almost tickling her. Then he moved to the other one, very gently encouraging her legs to part so he could fit in the middle of them. He kissed the inside of her knee.

“Feel any better?” he asked, lips still attached to her skin.

“A bit.”

He hummed, straightening and lifting his face to hers. “What about your hands?” he asked, taking hers and flipping them palm side up as he did right after the accident. 

“They may need some attention.”

The heels of them were bruised and scratched, but on the mend. He placed light kisses over the center of her palms- the same palms that had wrapped around his own hands, and that he imagined wrapping elsewhere more than once. He was careful not to let his coarse beard brush over her tender skin.

“What about here?” he asked, placing his hands around her face. “Everything looks perfect to me.”

She smiled. “Even so, it’s best to have well rounded care.” She leaned down and kissed his lips. He could only pull himself closer to her, slotting himself into every gap and valley of her figure. Her lips, the ones he’d watched work, pucker, flatten, point, and even smile from his place in the last pew of the church, were now pressed to his. She was soft and warm against him, like dry beach sand, sucking him in and covering him all around.

She gave him a short kiss, then pressed her nose to his cheek as her hands moved to his hair. Gentle fingernails left tracks in his golden tresses until they reached the elastic at the nape of his neck.

“I’ve wanted to see these curls free from the moment we met.” She drew away only enough to look into his eyes. “May I?”

He nodded.

With a touch so tender it left him shivering, she removed the restraint from his hair and pulled it over his shoulders, twisting her fingers in the ends and propping it neatly over his collar. He closed his eyes to it, feeling his spine turn to goo in her hands. He relished it.

“So beautiful and soft,” she said, dipping her head to his neck and setting a kiss there.

He could say the same about her, but he instead reached around her back and found the zipper to her dress, which he’d zeroed in on as soon as she’d walked through the door of his room. Nosing the shell of her ear, he whispered, “Can I-”

“Yes. Please.”

In a moment it was unzipped and the fabric pushed down her shoulders until it gathered at her belly. Before Fili could lift her hips and pull the dress away completely, her lips were back on his and her fingers were unbuttoning his shirt. She dragged it out of his trousers and down his arms and threw it away so quickly, he couldn’t comprehend a moment where her fingers weren’t traveling down his bare, heated skin. Little noises, little moans came from her as she caressed his bare arms, the hollow below his neck, his pink nipples, and the coily curls over his chest. He wanted to be able to do this for the rest of the night- to let her touch him and release those sweet sounds- but every breath of hers shot electricity straight to his cock. He needed more. 

He leaned to her. It was his turn to explore, to touch and let his voice give her the smallest hint of how much he enjoyed embracing her. He chipped away at her clothing bit by bit, like a sculptor carving through stone. First he pulled her dress down her legs, letting his fingertips slide over skin as smooth as marble. Then, after kissing warm lines through the lace covering the swell of her breasts, he let her bra fall to the floor, hands too busy cupping and kneading her breasts to worry about where the piece of lingerie landed. He gave them the care they deserved, attending to the bold, rosy nipples, to the valley in the center of her chest and everywhere in between.

With breath as heavy and excited as hers, his clever, sneaky fingers found the waistline of her underwear. Those too he dragged away, lips never leaving the soft skin of her belly. His hand traveled from pole to equator, from the coolness of her knee, up her thigh, to the heat of her core. But he didn’t touch. He only watched her face as his thumb pushed her leg to dangle over the side of the chair. Her folds were glistening in the light from the windows just for him.

Watching her bow pinch and bit lip, he kissed the inside of her heated, fleshy thigh. He could have bitten right through, it felt so good, but he instead soothed away the sting with his tongue and left a kiss on the mark he left. Then he surfed over to her other leg, skipping where she wanted a breath, a kiss, or a lick the most. He sucked on her skin with open mouthed kisses until she gave him what he was waiting for. 

“Please.”

_Permission_.

Permission to dive into her warmth, to taste her and suck her clit until her legs were shaking around him, and then permission to let her juices flow again. She slid her hips into his chest and threw an ankle down his back, bringing him closer with the strength of her legs and that movement alone, that power of hers, forced him to unclip his belt and release his aching cock to the hot, intimate air. He gave himself one pump only before teasing her entrance with one of his fingers, swirling the round tip over the edge.

“Please,” gave the thick finger it’s admission.

He felt it immediately, that perfect pleasure point. It was already engorged and begging for his touch. If he had any doubts of himself, of what he was feeling or making her feel, they vanished when he stroked that spot on her upper wall. Down she slid from the chair, arching her back into his arms, and down fell her hand from the tabletop into Fili’s hair. Her fingers were gentle on his scalp- they didn’t tangle or yank on his curls, nor did they push his mouth closer. It was as if a part of her simply wanted to hide in a part of him. Which he understood. He wanted to hide in her right now. But not until she came for him.

So he easily slid another finger inside her and beckoned to her through her upper wall, calling to her without words and telling her to let go. He held onto her hips and the seat of the chair as she rocked into his mouth and writhed against his hand, whimpering out his name with the sweetest of voices. So this is what she sounded like.

He growled against her clit in answer and felt her fall deeply into her orgasm. He helped her ride it out to completion- pumping, licking and sucking- and diligently cleaned every drop from his beard and fingers before he looked up at her to see her smiling at him.

“You’re very good at that,” she said, twirling his hair around her finger. Then that same finger fell under his chin and led him up to his knees and close to her face. “But it’s my turn now.” Her other hand found his leaking cock sticking out of his fly.

His eyes rolled back. “If that’s what you want,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh, it is.” 

She stood from the chair, a little wobbly on her legs at first, letting Fili hold her up as her lips drifted over his neck and down the center of his chest, giving light kisses and nips to the trail as she shoved his pants down his legs. The two moaned in tandem when she took him in her hand and generously stroked him.

“Lay down on the bed, Fili.”

He did as he was told, though he held his smirk and low, challenging brow as he sat back into the pillows. But his lust and bold demeanor snapped like a cracker when he imagined her on her knees for him.

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t hurt yourself-”

She circled the bed and slid in beside him, her face even with his belly. She kissed its curve.

“I’m fine, see?” Down her nose went, trailing through the curls between his hips until she slid him through the ring of her fingers and sucked the slippery, pink head of him in her mouth. She hummed around him- not like a musician, not like a sweet girl on a first date, but like a lover addicted to the mere thought of pleasing him. And when he returned her hum with a groan of his own- unashamed, long, and low- she smiled. The corners of her lips turned upwards around the tip of his cock until they let go of him with a lewd pop.

He could have wondered what she thought of him. He could have reflected on questions answered. This is how he thought she’d be. He guessed that she would feed off of his desire, he guessed her voice would fall deep and gravelly with raw need and pleasure, even confidence. But she was also different from his musings. She was slow and affectionate and still eager to reach both of their highs. There was so much about her that still left him wondering.

So much, and yet he couldn’t think about any of it with her mouth around him. She smirked and watched him as if she knew there was nothing running through him except for this specific and complete moment, and then the next, each filled with electric jolts and warm waves of perfect. 

His fingers found her hair, her neck, her shoulders, giving tender, encouraging, praising caresses. 

“So good,” he said.

Then she got up. When he moved to follow, she pushed his chest down on the bed. 

“No, no. You stay.” There was a mischievous brow popped.

Though she didn’t make a sound, she did wince as her scraped knees brushed against the cool bedspread. As she climbed over one of his legs and settled down in between them, he noticed the shiny glint of his precome on her bottom lip. Then more on her chin and her cheek.

Before she could continue with her plan, now laying on her belly between his legs, he took her chin in his fingers. She smirked when he wiped the clear liquid from her skin with his thumb.

“No use in cleaning me up yet,” she said. “I’m not finished.”

Before he could retreat, she sucked his thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around its tip. 

“You can’t have me like this for much longer,” he warned. “I want to be inside you.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, lips still tight around his digit. Then they opened, narrowed and dark with lust. “Then I’ll have to make the best of my time between your legs.”

Her delicious lips disappeared from his view, sinking below his cock and between his legs until he felt them encase one of his balls. He squeezed the pillow under his head as she fondled them, licked and sucked, treated them like candy. _So good_ , everything she was doing felt so good and he could only say those words to her, jelly in her hands, until the current grew too strong for him. He ran his fingers through her hair and propped himself up on his other elbow. 

“Come up here,” he said. He led her to lay down, her head replacing his own on the pillow.

“You could have let me finish,” she said as his chest curved over her when he reached for the condom in the drawer of the bedside table. Her hands found him and acted like magnets over metal, slowly sliding all around, but never leaving the surface. “I’d have liked watching you.”

“You underestimate how much _I_ like to watch _you_.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips before sitting back on his heels. With his knees spread wide and his cock stuck straight out, he ripped open the packaging and threw the blue away on the floor. 

She pumped him, patiently waiting. “Good thing you’re so close to me, then.”

He hummed, setting a kiss to her slick hand before sliding the protection in place.

He couldn’t help touching her while she was open below him- her cheek, her breasts, down her belly and over her hips. A thumb wriggling over the shining red nub and folds. Then his cock slid over her, making her hips shift up and her legs close around him.

When she reached out for him, he folded over her, tucking one hand under her head while the other guided himself inside. Pressing his nose to her skin, he thrust forward. He wanted to be surrounded by her in every way- to take in her breath as she gasped, her voice as she moaned. He wanted the scent of her light perfume, of the sheen of sweat he put over her forehead, of the musk of her sex, and the shampoo of her hair, rather than the cleaning supplies and starched sheets of the hotel room. He wanted her, and he had her.

He listened as he moved. There was a rustling as she wrapped her limbs around him further and the smothered slap of skin diving into wet skin. Her desire was as clear to him as his own and it only made him push deeper inside her and hug her closer. 

He paid special attention to her, learning what she liked, what felt good. But it didn’t take an inch away from his own pleasure. She enfolded him in her embrace in every way, from her arms and legs around his back to her core tightening around his hot erection- so hard for her and only growing harder with each thrust and each sound that passed her lips. Nothing could distract him from her light kisses along his shoulder or her fingernails gently scratching up his ass, encouraging his drives into her heat.

“Yes,” she whined when he lifted her knee, opening her legs wider to his onslaught and begging him for more. Her fingers grasped at the back of his neck, keeping him close. “Please.”

His forehead met hers. “So good for me. You feel so good. So perfect.”

His lips dropped from where they were hovering, kissing her lips, her cheeks and down to her neck. He thought he’d want to watch her from a place high above. Even before dinner, sitting on this bed he’d imagined the place of their joining, her breasts bouncing with the intensity of his thrusts, her face scrunching, eyes closed and mouth open wide in enough pleasure to be painful. But this, being so close to her, barely able to make out her blurry face in their proximity, _this_ was what he wanted.

But it wouldn’t last. He could feel his orgasm deep in the base of his spine. She felt too good to hold out much longer. He forced himself to draw away, lift her heel over his shoulder and stimulate her clit as he drove into her hard. He knew it was what she craved and what she needed.

His name fell over her lips as she reached back, bending the pillow under her head with brutal, desperate hands. She hid her eyes in its soft cushion as her toes curled over his.

“Look at me, (Y/N),” he said. “Can you look at me? Come on my cock for me?”

The noise that left her- frantic for words, furious at his smirk and fierce in obedience- made his hips stutter, but the fire in her voice quickly melted away, replaced with whimpers of curses, praise, and _yes yes yes._

One more harsh thrust, circle of his thumb, kiss to her knee and squeeze to her thigh and she was thrown into her orgasm. Even as her eyes snapped closed, she reached for him, and Fili fell down over her, releasing her clit from his ministrations but continuing to thrust into her. Her walls shook and strangled his cock and she moaned his name, lost in the sea of white pillows and golden hair. He could have come right there inside her, finished at the same time like practiced lovers, but he had other plans. Primal, instinctive, affectionate plans.

His movements were slow. With forearms bracketing her head and lips on hers, he let his cock slide deep inside and then out, so only the tip of him remained inside her coated folds.

After her breathing finally slowed, he released her from his kiss and studied her soft eyes. “Feel good?”  
  


She hummed with a smile. Then she ran her hands through his hair and gave his locks a tug. “Keep going, Fili. Take what you need.”

That earned her a growl from deep in his gut. Plunging his face in the crook of her neck, he pounded into her wet cavern, blind to all except her heat, her touch, and her praise. Her words, however arousing in nature, only spurred him on more as her voice jolted and broke in the ferocity of his thrusts. 

“Yes, Fili, come for me.”

He pressed his nose into her cheek. “Want to. I wanna come on your belly- wanna mark you.”

“Do it,” she whispered. “Mark me.”

He grunted in her ear, angry to leave her, but lifted himself to sit back on his knees. As he slid out of her and tossed the condom toward the garbage, he shimmied up to the apex of her thighs and stroked his slick cock with a tight fist. His own hand was nothing compared to her warmth and wetness, but the view of her below him mixed with her soft encouragements made him climax after just a few sloppy slides of his fingers. He watched the strips of come shoot from the red head of his cock onto her skin. It coated her belly, even dappled the underside of one of her breasts, marking her as his at least for tonight. Then he fell over top of her, catching himself before he could hurt her, but not before the fur on his own stomach was glazed white. 

He kissed her. She happily hummed against his mouth.

With his arms ready to give out, he rolled down beside her and she followed, tucking herself into his side and resting her head on his chest. When he kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger on the line of her soft hair, she sighed and relaxed in his embrace.

“Puccini would be proud of that singing,” Fili said.

She groaned, digging her nose into the curls on his chest. “You _did not_ just say that.”

He leaned over her, brushing the tip of his nose over her cheek. “But I did.” He enjoyed her laugh- her deep, affectionate humming and her high giggles as he laid kiss after tickling kiss over her neck. 

Then their eyes met. “Puccini or no Puccini, I’m glad you flew all the way here for one song.”

She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair and rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “I am too.” After kissing his lips, letting him fall into her, she said, “And I think you’re right. Serendipity was working for me.”

Fili was not one to believe in fate or even luck. However, he would give his support to the simple coincidence and timing that brought this loving woman to sing at his friend’s wedding, to get hit by a bike in the cathedral courtyard, to his table at the restaurant and finally, into his bed.


End file.
